Nakitsura Ni Hachi
by pinkswallowsun
Summary: Harry comforts Nikki after the events of a Guilty Mind. Based around the H/N scene at the ambulance, and pure H/N angsty fluff. Three/four parter, if you guys want xx
1. Part 1

**This is just something that came to me today when watching 'A guilty mind' for the 100****th**** time :) It's based on the dialogue from the episode, but with my own stuff added in around the edges, and the next chapter will be my own work entirely. This will be a 2 parter, and I'll get back to Sunset in SA straight after, don't worry! Just needed some H/N fluff/angst, and this wouldn't leave me alone :)**

**The title is Japanese (I seem to be giving you a language lesson with each new story title, sorry!) and means 'the bee always stings when you're crying. It's basically saying that sometimes things have to go from bad to worse before they can get better, and I thought it summed up the last H/N scene of the episode quite well. Credit goes to my mom for suggesting it :) **

**Will upload part 2 tomorrow night, provided I get enough reviews :) And if you haven't checked out my other oneshots yet, then please give them a go, they're on my profile page: Om te hou haar veilig, N verhaal van Verlating and Intaka Yakha Ngoboya Benye. One day, when my gcses are over, I promise to write a fic with a title I don't need to explain the meaning of. Honest! **

**I think I've rambled enough, so please review, hope you like, and I'll be back with part 2 soon,**

**Love Florencia xxx**

**Nakitsura Ni Hachi**

He found her perched on the back of the ambulance outside her apartment block, a small figure wrapped in a red blanket, shivering violently, though whether that was from the cold or the shock, he didn't know. As he approached her, he could see one of the paramedics handing her a steaming paper cup and taking from her a crimson-stained tissue. Harry sighed, stopping beside her and waiting for her to look up at him, to acknowledge his presence. But she didn't. Nikki just stared down at her feet, warming her hands against the cup as she recoiled further into the blanket around her shoulders. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen her look as lost as she did in that moment and the very sight of her made him want to break down, right then and there. But Harry knew he couldn't. He knew she was relying on him, and he wasn't going to let her down, not now, not after everything she'd already been through. As to whether she was on the verge of a mental breakdown or had already slipped over the edge, he couldn't be sure, but he knew that either way, she was in a fragile state mentally. And he was going to do everything he could to help her.

"Brought some scrubs for you," Harry told her gently, holding out a bundle of light blue fabric. She looked up at him now, the same drained, hurt expression of desperation as the one he'd seen that morning back at her flat etched across her face. God, had it really only been that morning? It felt like a lifetime ago.

"Great, thanks," she said hurriedly, forcing a smile as she accepted the scrubs from him; an attempt to convince him she was OK, but Harry saw right through it. He knew she was far from OK. How could she not be, after the day she'd had? He wasn't going to be fooled that easily. And so he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and sat down beside her, pulling her close and letting out a silent sigh as he saw her face fall, despair creeping back into her features. Poor Nikki. Why was it always her?

And yet there was something new in her eyes amongst the pain and anguish, something which hadn't been there earlier, not before Naomi. But he couldn't place it; he couldn't work out what it was. He only knew that something additional was troubling her, no doubt an end result of watching Naomi Silverlake try to commit suicide in front of her. Hadn't she been through enough?

"Did she say anything to you?" he asked, studying her face for a reaction. She paused for a moment, as if debating how much information to give him, and Harry sighed. Why, after 7 years, was she still yet to realize that she could tell him anything, however shocking? Why couldn't she see how desperate he was to make all the pain go away?

"Yes, lots of things," she said finally, after giving him the slightest tint of a nod, a blink-or-you'll-miss-it confirmation that she had actually heard him. That was so like Nikki; to answer the question but hold back the details. And Harry wasn't letting her get away with it, not tonight. She needed to talk about this, or else it was going to consume her, it was going to send her into a black hole of depression, one which the psychologist said she had entered into already. And he couldn't lose her to the darkness.

"Like?" he pressed her, bending over further to study her face as she let out a soft, sad sigh, before bracing herself.

"What's the point in me?' was memorable." She turned to look him in the eyes now, reminding him of a small child searching for the answer to an impossible question in their parents' eyes, still at the age of innocence at which it is possible to believe that parents have the answer to everything. Maybe that was the problem, he reasoned. Dr Banks- the psychologist- had said that she thought part of Nikki's trouble was that she believed in an idealistic world, one in which natural order and justice always came out on top in the end, one in which bad people got what they deserved and there was no grey blur between good and evil, one in which hope was in abundance and love could triumph over evil. Maybe, in that fairy tale world, he, Harry Cunningham, had the answer to everything, taking the place of a dead mother and a useless father. In a funny sort of way, he hoped so. He hoped he meant that much to her.

But Harry didn't have an answer to everything, and he certainly didn't have a miraculous cure for all the pain and anguish. And so he did the only thing he could, the one action he always seemed to fall back on when Nikki was having a momentary lapse of faith. He pulled her in closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead, deciding it wasn't exactly the right moment to recreate their kiss from that night in the pub. The circumstances of this occasion were so different, the emotions driving her to the point of despair in an entirely different league, and yet she needed him in exactly the same way she had all those years ago. She needed him to be there for her, to show her that she wasn't alone, that he would always be there to make it all better for as long as she wanted him to be. And in that moment, sat there on the back step of an ambulance in the midst of hopelessness, somehow their closeness, the smell of her perfume that reminded him of spring flowers, the feel of her slightly shaking body against his own… it felt right, in a way nothing, no one, had ever felt before. Even under such horribly grave circumstances, even when she was so visibly upset, she somehow managed to make him feel complete.

"Julia's going to be fine."

Leo's voice made them both jump slightly; each of them so caught up in their own little world that they hadn't even acknowledged his approach. Harry looked up, his arm still draped around his best friend's shoulder, holding her a little too closely, but he didn't care, knowing that Leo was more than used to the way the two of them behaved around each other after 7 years together.

"Naomi?" Nikki asked softly, her voice giving away her exhaustion. How she could even spare a thought for Naomi Silverlake after the evening's events Harry didn't know, but it made him admire her even more. How could she be so selfless under the circumstances?

"The surgeons have stopped the bleeding," Leo explained gently, looking down at the pair of them. "She's in critical care. Under police guard."

Nikki just stared up at him, her face changing slightly as she took in the news, but otherwise no new emotion displayed on her face. Harry responded by pulling her in even closer, as if hoping that the tightness of the hug would give her some added comfort.

Leo looked down at the pair of them awkwardly. "Do you mind if I make a move?" he asked. "Janet's going to be wondering where I am?"

"No, no, you go ahead," Harry insisted, forcing a smile. "We'll be fine, won't we?" He addressed the latter part to Nikki, who just nodded, staring at her knees.

"Take the day off tomorrow, both of you" Leo said as he turned to leave. "I think you've earned it." He looked Harry directly in the face, mouthing a 'look after her', before turning and heading back towards his car, leaving Harry to revert his attention back to the woman in his arms. He couldn't leave her alone for the night, not after today. He just couldn't.

"Come back to mine tonight," he told her softly, hoping she wouldn't notice the blush that he could feel spreading across his cheeks, as if he were a schoolboy again, asking his girlfriend out on a date. "Please, it'll do you good to get out of here for a while. And if Leo's serious about giving us the day off tomorrow, then we can go out, take your mind off things. It's been a while since I took you to an air show, after all."

And for the first time in almost a week, Nikki Alexander looked right up at him and smiled.


	2. Part 2

**I was worried you weren't going to get this today, that's why some of you will have got PMs saying it wasn't going to be up until tomorrow, but half way through sending them I realised this was going to have to turn into a 3 or 4 parter rather than a 2 parter, so you can have this bit now. It's still going to be a short multi fic, but as I was writing it I found so much more unexplored material that I just couldn't leave alone, so I'm going to have to extend this project a little. I haven't forgotten Sunset in SA though, don't worry :) This one is short due to the horrors of GCSE Chemistry (pray for me, please, I'm going to need it!), but the next one will be longer, promise! **

**One last thing before I stop droning on, do the Brits say 'movie' or 'film'? As you might have guessed, I'm a bit messed up language wise, and I'm not sure which one you're supposed to use over here? If I've got it wrong then please let me know, and if there's anything else I've used that sounds American in any of my stories, then please let me know :) **

**R&R, :) love Flossie xxx**

Harry didn't seem to be able to let go of her as the two of them stood and walked up to her flat, his arm still wrapped tightly around her shoulders as though he were holding her together, and now afraid that she might fall to pieces if he removed his arm, even for a moment. He reluctantly pulled away from her as she disappeared into her bedroom to pack an overnight bag, surprised by the sudden sense of worry that overwhelmed him. 'Stop it, Harry,' he told himself. 'She's fine, the last think she needs is you worrying about her excessively.'

But somehow he couldn't shake the fear, however irrational he knew it to be. Because he had thought she was safe with Naomi Silverlake, he had casually handed over the keys to her flat without a second thought, unaware of the fact that he'd left her with a murderer. He'd put her in danger in her own home, he'd let her down, and now, in the aftermath of everything that had happened, he was being taken over by an irrational fear of losing her, for real this time. He knew he'd never forgive himself for his actions that day, and he knew it would be a while before he stopped worrying about her quite so much, given her track record. But that was OK, Harry reasoned. It was no secret that the two of them had a rather complex relationship, one which no one seemed to understand, him included.

"Harry?"

Her voice pulled him back to reality, and he turned around to find Nikki standing in her bedroom doorway, a large holdall hanging over her arm. There was still something desperately vulnerable about her appearance, he mused, walking over to her and taking the bag. They would have to work on that, the two of them, getting her back to normal. But it would happen, when she was ready. She wasn't going to stay depressed forever, or so he convinced himself.

"Ready to go?"

Nikki was fast asleep by the time Harry pulled up outside his apartment block, so peaceful-looking that at first, he couldn't quite bring himself to wake her. And so he sat there, watching her sleep for a moment, hoping she would wake on her own, but no such luck.

"Nikki?" Harry called softly. "Nikki, we're here."

But still no response. She didn't even stir, but he supposed it made sense, given the amount of sleep he knew Nikki had lost over the past couple of weeks. He knew he should be grateful that she was finally getting some sleep, but she could have waited until he got her inside. He had already carried her to bed once that day; twice might be pushing it a little. They were only friends, after all, best friends, but still just friends.

"Nikki?" he tried again, reaching over to shake her shoulders. "Nikki?"

And suddenly she jumped, her eyes snapping open as she cringed away from him, clearly scared, and he cursed himself, knowing he was responsible for the fear in her eyes.

"It's alright," he told her gently, trying to calm her down. "Nikki, it's alright, it's just me. We're here."

She seemed to relax as she recognised his voice, turning to look at him for a moment.

"We're here? Sorry, I…"

"No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have scared you," Harry told her firmly, not wanting to get into an argument over whose fault it was, noticing her yawning slightly, rubbing her eyes. "Tired?"

"A bit," she nodded, pulling the car door open, and stepping out. "OK, really tired," she corrected herself, giving in to his questioning stare. "But it's fine."

But it wasn't fine, Harry thought to himself. She shouldn't have been allowed to get to this point, tired, sleep deprived, depressed and afraid, before anyone noticed, she shouldn't have been left, alone and vulnerable, in the company of a murderer in her own home. He was her best friend; he was supposed to notice things like this! Why hadn't he realized how close to the edge she was getting until it was too late?

"So no movie tonight then?" he asked her, wrapping his arm around her once more and guiding her up to his apartment. He watched her face, seeing her eyes roll slightly to the side, deep in thought.

"Don't know."

"Your choice," he told her. "Go straight to bed if you want, I don't mind."

She looked at him uncertainly. "I'm not going to be much company if I do that, am I?"

"Nikki, if you're tired, then there's no point staying up. We've got the whole of tomorrow to enjoy each other's company, I don't mind having an early night."

She shook her head. "But it's not just about being tired."

"Hmm?" he asked, feeling confused as he turned the key in his front door and led her inside. "Care to explain?"

"I don't know…" she frowned, looking down at the floor, ashamed. "I don't know if I can sleep after… after…"

After watching Naomi Silverlake try to kill herself, Harry finished for her silently. God, he hadn't realized how much of an impact all this had made on her.

"You have to try," he told Nikki firmly, handing her the holdall and pushing her towards his bedroom. "Now go on, go and get changed."

"Can I…?" she held up her still slightly blood-stained hands, exposing streaks of crimson running down her forearms beneath her jumper sleeve. He rolled his eyes at her.

"Nikki, course you can. How many times have you been here now? Once you reach frequent visitor status, you don't have to ask to use anything, OK?"

Again, his attempt at light-hearted humour was met with a small smile, but still far from the Nikki he knew so well, the Nikki he was used to. Something was still bothering her, he was sure of it. He was going to have to probe deeper.

She emerged from his bedroom almost half an hour later, now changed into her pyjamas, her hair wet, indicating that she'd had to shower in order to wash away the last stubborn physical traces of her ordeal. She didn't speak, just crossed the room and curled up next to him on the sofa, her head resting against his chest. Harry sighed and pulled her in closer, knowing she wasn't going to like where he planned for this next conversation to go, but knowing he had no choice. Because she wasn't behaving like Nikki anymore, and she was scaring him. He needed her to talk.


	3. Part 3

**Here's part 3 :) I'm sorry, this seems to be coming in short, sharp bursts in between revision atm, but come the summer updates to any stories still being written then will become more regular. This one's about how Nikki was affected by Naomi, as you might have guessed, because I can't believe her behaviour in some of those scenes didn't leave Nikki feeling rather disturbed. I'll get them to an air show soon though, promise! Just let me deal with the angst first!**

**Thank you everyone who reviewed and answered my movie/film question, I'm not sure I'm happy with this part, so please let me know what you think!**

**Love Flossie xxx**

"Nikki, come on, talk to me," Harry sighed to his best friend a while later. He had given in on the getting her to bed early front; the two of them had been curled up on the sofa watching a repeat episode of Waking The Dead (somehow they never managed to completely turn off from work, no matter how hard they tried) for almost an hour, during which time Nikki hadn't uttered a single word. He had hoped that she would relax a little and tell him what was wrong, but no such luck. And so now he was going to have to try a more direct approach.

"Apart from the obvious," he told Nikki, seeing her open her mouth to protest. "This isn't just about… about what happened this evening, Nikki, I know it isn't. And it's not doing you any good keeping it bottled up." He looked down at her face as she stared determinedly at the floor, not missing the lone tear running down her cheek.

"Nikki, please? You know I hate seeing you like this."

She shook her head vigorously. "No! I don't want to talk about it!"

"Well, would you rather talk to me or Dr Banks?" He felt terrible, threatening her like that with something he knew full well that she hated, but he also knew that it was the only way of getting her to cave in.

Nikki just sighed in defeat, sitting up slightly to meet Harry's gaze. "You know Naomi… you know she gave me Nigel Silverlake's medical records?"

Harry nodded. "Course I do, you left them all over my desk. Again." He stopped, seeing she wasn't laughing. "Sorry. Yep, I remember."

"Well she… when I was going home last night she… she turned up…" she was sobbing slightly now, her words slightly distorted. "She appeared in the car park just as I was leaving, and she… she said that I'd upset her mother when I went to talk to her and she wanted her father's medical records back- which I couldn't give her, of course- and she walked off in the end so I didn't think any more about it, but then…" She cut off, wiping at her eyes furiously as she tried to stop the flow of tears. "Sorry."

"Nikki, you've got nothing to be sorry about," Harry assured her, pulling her into a hug once more. This had to be a new record; the most hugs between them in one evening, that was. But he was even more worried now; normally it would take so much more than that to get Nikki so upset, which could only mean that the worst was still to come. "So what happened after that?"

"I went home," Nikki explained shakily. "I went home and then… a… a few minutes later she was there, shouting through the door, saying she was sorry and I had to let her in."

"She followed you home?" Harry was fully alert now, despite the late hour, holding her a little tighter. Naomi's behaviour was starting to sound rather stalker-like now; no wonder Nikki seemed so shaken.

She nodded. "I didn't let her in, I told her to leave but… she just wouldn't go, she just kept talking- I think she was trying to scare me into opening the door, I don't know- but I just…" she looked up again, she chocolate brown eyes swimming with tears which just about snapped Harry's heart clean in two. "There was just something about her whole manner that was unnerving, and I know it's stupid-"

"Nikki, we know now that she murdered at least 4 people, and she almost killed Julia, what's to say she wasn't trying to do the same to you?" Harry told her, realising it was the wrong thing to say the moment she tensed up in his arms. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to scare you, I just think you've got every right to be unnerved by the whole thing. "But Nikki, listen, she's been arrested now, OK? She can't hurt you; you're safe. And I am so, so sorry I left you with her Nikki, if I'd known…" he sighed, the immense feeling of guilt working its way back to the front of his consciousness. "If I'd had the slightest idea of what she'd done I would never have left you with her, you know that, don't you?"

She nodded. "It's not your fault, you know."

"But it is. Nikki, I gave your flat keys to a complete stranger, just because she told me she was your friend. If I hadn't done that, nothing that happened this evening could ever have happened." Another of the day's events suddenly seemed to make sense, and Harry cursed himself, realizing how blind he had been. All the signs had been there, but he had missed them. And because of his ignorance, Nikki could have been killed.

"That's why you were so upset when I came to check on you this afternoon, wasn't it? I'd left you with someone who'd spent the best part of the last few days intimidating you, and when you tried to tell me, I just thought you were still being affected by the Jason Bodle case, and carted you off to a psychologist." He groaned, watching her shaking her head and thinking she was just trying to stop him from blaming himself.

"Nikki, stop it, don't try and pretend I didn't miss all the signs, OK? I know I did, I know I let you down, and I am so sorry," he said guiltily, squeezing her shoulders. "And I swear to god, Nikki, I swear to god the next time you try to tell me something, the next time someone I don't know too well claims to be your friend and asks me for your flat keys-

"Harry, it's not about that!"

"What?" Harry stopped his rant and turned his attention back to the trembling body of his best friend in his arms, grabbing her yet another tissue from the box on his coffee table, which she accepted gratefully.

"I'm sorry; I'm not listening to you, am I?" He frowned. "So it wasn't Naomi being so intimidating that you were upset about this afternoon? What was it, then?"

She stared at him, almost disbelievingly. "You didn't notice?"

Harry thought back frantically to that afternoon, trying to remember anything out of the ordinary about that scene, but nothing came to mind. Yet whatever it was, it was clearly upsetting his best friend.

"Sorry, you've lost me, Nikki. I don't think I did notice, I'm sorry. You're going to have to tell me."

She paused for a moment, staring blankly at her knees before answering.

"Harry? When you left me this morning, what… what was I wearing?"

He thought for a moment. "Well, the same as yesterday, you'd been asleep on the sofa…" and suddenly, in a horrible, sickening moment, he realized what she had been trying to tell him all along, and his heart just about stopped in shock.

"Oh god," he breathed. How the hell could he have been so blind?


	4. Part 4

**Here's part 4. This was going to be the final part, but I know some of you want their day out at the airshow to be written up too, so if enough of you let me know that you want that, then I'll write it :) Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading and reviewing this, I honestly couldn't have done this without you :) I'm not sure how well I have Harry and Nikki in character- it's hard to write Nikki as she was in A guilty mind, as it's so far from her usual behaviour, so I hope I've got it right. Please review and let me know!**

**Hope you like,**

**Love Flossie xxx**

_She paused for a moment, staring blankly at her knees before answering._

"_Harry? When you left me this morning, what… what was I wearing?"_

_He thought for a moment. "Well, the same as yesterday, you'd been asleep on the sofa…" and suddenly, in a horrible, sickening moment, he realized what she had been trying to tell him all along, and his heart just about stopped in shock._

"_Oh god," he breathed. How the hell could he have been so blind?_

No words were spoken between the two of them for the next few minutes; they weren't needed. Nikki was crying properly now, clinging to Harry like her life depended upon it, her head resting on his chest as he stroked her hair while holding her close, gripping her as if in an attempt to stop her shaking by holding her still.

They stayed like that for a while, taking comfort in each other's mere presence, before Harry pulled away gently, holding her at arm's length and studying her face. He wasn't going to let her run away from this; she was going to have to talk about it, or else it was just going to get worse. It was going to eat her up inside, sending her further and further down into a depressive spiral, one which the psychologist seemed to think she had entered already. Harry wasn't going to let her go back to see Dr Banks if he could help it, not knowing how much she had hated it, but that meant she needed to talk to him about how she was feeling, how her encounter with Naomi had affected her. He needed her to talk.

But Nikki wasn't in any fit state to talk. It was as if all the emotions of the past couple of weeks had come gushing out of her all at once in a storm of tears, a storm which just didn't seem to have an end to it. He could see her beginning to hyperventilate and gripped the tops of her arms, trying to take control.

"Nikki, come on, you need to calm down," he told her firmly. "Come on, deep breaths, it's alright now. She can't hurt you now, you know she can't hurt you; I won't let her hurt you, OK? I promise."

She nodded slightly, her breathing evening out again as she began to relax. "I'm- sorry."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Dr Alexander, when are you going to stop apologising unnecessarily? Now come on, you're still shaking."

"Just c-c-cold."

"Sure you are," Harry replied lightly, but the temperature of her hands told a different story, and he found his hand moving to her forehead.

"Jesus, you are cold!"

"Told you. Harry, I'm tired," she complained, leaning into his shoulder.

Harry now faced a dilemma. He could tell she was exhausted and part of him was tempted to just let her sleep. But at the same time, he knew that if he were to give in to her now, the two of them would have to start all over again the following morning, and he wasn't prepared to see her cry like that again; not now, not tomorrow, not ever.

"I know, but we need to talk about this; you need to talk about this. Look, how about I go and get you a blanket, you can warm up a bit and tell me what happened, and then you can sleep?"

"Harry, there's nothing to talk about!" Nikki protested angrily. "I don't even know what happened! I just woke up, stark naked, with her sat there staring at me like god only knows what, telling me quite casually that she'd… that she' d bloody stripped me!" Then she stopped, pulled her knees up to her chest and stared at the floor, seeming almost shocked and embarrassed at her outburst.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have shouted."

"No, Nikki you really don't need to apologise, I think you're allowed to be angry at the moment," Harry assured her, before sighing sympathetically. "It must have been horrible, waking up like that. I just can't believe I didn't notice; I think I was just so worried about you that I didn't take in anything else." But Harry still couldn't forgive himself. He had sat down right next to her on the bed, he had been holding her, trying to calm her down, and he hadn't even noticed that she had been naked. What kind of best friend was he if he hadn't even noticed that?

But Harry still didn't know quite how to help her. It was clear that she was still very distressed by the whole episode, that she needed reassurance, yet he knew how independent and stubborn Nikki could be, and didn't want to overwhelm her. Why did she have to be so complicated? But then again, she wouldn't be Nikki if she wasn't. He supposed that was part of what he loved about her, a part of her personality that he wouldn't change for the world, even if it would make his life easier sometimes.

"Nikki," he said softly, squeezing her hand. "Nikki, you know she can't hurt you anymore, don't you? She's going to get locked up now, at the very least she's going to get sent to a psychiatric unit; you're never going to have to put up with that again, OK? I'm not going to let her hurt you again," he vowed, meaning every word.

"I know," she whispered. "I know, it's just… I feel so… I don't know… violated."

Violated. She felt violated. That word alone was enough to make Harry's blood boil. How could anyone want to make Nikki feel like that? Waking up naked in the presence of someone who had been practically stalking you for days would be unsettling enough at the best of times, without the case with the 8 year old girl Nikki had faced the week before.

"Nikki?" he asked cautiously, not knowing quite how to approach the subject. "Naomi didn't… she didn't do anything to you, did she?"

"What?" Nikki was suddenly alert, sitting up with a look of sheer panic on her face. "No, of course not! I mean, I was asleep, but… but I would have woken up, wouldn't I? God, no, she couldn't have!"

"No, of course she couldn't," Harry soothed her, cursing himself for having brought up that subject in the first place. "No, you're right; you couldn't have slept through that. I just wanted to be sure you were telling me everything."

She looked affronted now. "Harry, I tell you everything, you know I do!"

"I know you do, I'm sorry," Harry sighed, knowing he'd got it wrong again, but silently thankful she hadn't been hurt, physically at least. But she was still keeping something from him, he was sure of it.

They sat in silence for a little while longer before Nikki finally spoke, finally voiced the fears and emotions she'd been keeping hidden.

"Did you see the psychologist report?"

He was confused now. "Hmm? What psychologist report? On Jason Bodle?"

"No, on me." And suddenly he understood. She was worried that Dr Banks had told him what her diagnosis had been; she was worried that he knew what the doctor had said, what she had thought. God, she could be so stupid sometimes.

"Nikki, it was a private consultation! The whole point is that the only people who know what was said are you and the psychologist, not me, not Leo, not anyone else. Dr Banks sent Leo an overview earlier, but all she said was that you were displaying some symptoms of depression but you would almost certainly make a full recovery, and we knew that already Nikki, that's why we sent you to see her in the first place. If you want to talk about it, if you want to tell me what the outcome of that session, then you can, and I'll be here to listen, but you don't have to tell me anything, Nikki. Not if you don't want to."

"She wants to put me on antidepressants." There was something matter-of-fact about her tone, as if she'd already accepted her diagnosis. Yet at the same time, her voice sounded numb, like everything she was saying applied to someone else, not her. Like she didn't want to think about the medication, and its implications.

"I don't want to take them," she continued. "I don't need them. I'm fine, I just feel so tired. But I'm fine, really, I am."

"Nikki, Dr Banks wouldn't have proscribed you any medication she didn't think you needed," Harry tried to tell her. "She's only trying to make you feel better. And the antidepressants will help with the fatigue, that's part of their function." He looked down at her, seeing her try and fail to conceal a yawn, and realized it was time to let her sleep. She still wasn't fine, and he knew that only too well, but she had confessed to what was troubling her now, she had let him know what was wrong, and now he was in a position to help her. But for now, Nikki needed to sleep. She hadn't slept properly in weeks from what he could gather, and that couldn't be helping. She needed to sleep.

"Nikki, come on," Harry said softly, standing up and pulling her to her feet. "Come on, you need to get some sleep."

"Don't want to," she mumbled, leaning into his chest. "I can't sleep without thinking about her."

"The little girl? Nikki, this is exactly why Dr Banks proscribed you the medication! So you stop thinking about the bad things, so you can sleep without having nightmares. You say you're just tired, but you're tired because you aren't sleeping, because you can't turn off from work."

He was guiding her towards the bedroom now, pulling back the covers and pushing her down gently onto the bed.

"Sleep," he told her firmly, tucking her in for the second time that day, wrapping the duvet around her tightly in an attempt to warm her up. "And the minute anything about Naomi, anything about that little girl, anything about Jason Bodle enters your head, you block it out, OK? Think about all the _fantastically exciting_ airplanes I'm going to take you to see tomorrow, and if you need anything, and I mean anything, Nikki, just call."

She nodded slightly, her eyes already closed.

"Thanks. I think I'll stick to butterflies, though. Airplanes all look the same."

He sighed sarcastically, reaching over to kiss her forehead. "What am I going to do with you, Dr Alexander? 7 years I've spent trying to re-educate you, 7 years of time wasted."

And in the darkness, Harry could have sworn that he saw her face relax into a smile. She was recovering. Slowly and surely, but she was recovering. And for that, he would be forever grateful.


	5. Part 5

**This is the final part :) Sorry it took so long, I've been busily researching airplanes. I'm not sure how good the aircraft part is, but I do know quite a lot about the last topic of conversation at the end ;) I won't give the game away, but please drop me a review when you're finished and let me know what you thought, either of this chapter or the whole fic. It would really cheer me up in the wake of more exams! **

**I've got another few oneshots planned at the moment, but I'm probably going to focus on 2 I've already started writing and on my multichap Lifelines in London for the time being, until the end of my exams. So keep a lookout for them; I'll get them up as soon as I can! And to any LinL readers, the next chapter will be up tomorrow :)**

**Love Flossie xxx**

**Part 5**

"Now this," explained Harry, holding Nikki's arm protectively as he led her over to the next exhibit, barely able to contain the excitement in his voice, "is a Boeing F-15 Eagle. Fantastic things, these, developed in the late 1960s in the USA, designed for strike and attack. They're still making these today, they're so good. Ah, and this," he continued, pulling Nikki over to another exhibit a few metres away, before she could protest, "is an English Electric Lightning, the only all-English supersonic aircraft _ever _to make it through to mass production. Initial climb of 50,000 feet per minute, crew of 1, ultimately an all-weather fighter jet. Doesn't it just make you proud to be British?" he said happily, standing back to admire the aircraft.

She sighed dramatically. "But it's a war machine, Harry. It's a great big killing machine with wings."

"Nikki, Nikki, Nikki," Harry groaned. "We've been through this, haven't we? Airplanes are the most fantastic machinery known to man! Some of them just come with… with… I don't know…"

"Huge great guns and bombs?" Nikki teased him.

"No… minor inconveniences."

"Minor inconveniences?" Nikki laughed. "You've just written off the gun part of a fighter craft as a minor inconvenience?"

"You can't blame the poor airplane for a human weakness!" Harry protested. "This is a beautiful machine, Dr Alexander, a beautiful machine! You just have to be prepared to look past the weapon part of them!"

"Whatever you say," Nikki laughed, knowing better than to argue with Harry about his obsession. "Whatever you say Harry, you're the airhead, not me!"

She seemed much better, Harry mused, as he guided Nikki away from the English Electric Lightning. Last night's sleep had clearly done her a world of good, and the sad, haunted look in her eyes had almost faded away. The dark circles, so dark that even numerous coated of make-up hadn't been able to hide them over the past few weeks, hadn't quite disappeared yet, but she didn't look anywhere near as tired as he had grown used to seeing her. Not that she had slept well; she'd woken up sobbing a couple of times, leaving him in a dilemma. Harry seemed to have some kind of 6th sense when it came to Nikki, he had come to realize over the course of the previous night. Somehow he had woken up numerous times, unable to hear anything unusual, but with an overwhelming sense that something was wrong. And so he had gone for a wander, just to be sure, and found Nikki curled up at the foot of the bed, sobbing softly to herself. He'd ended up sleeping there with her; on the other side of the bed, of course, but his mere presence seemed to have kept the nightmares at bay, like Nikki trusted him above anyone else to keep her safe. She was still far from herself, Harry knew that, but there was something reassuring about her mood today. Something which allowed him to believe that everything was going to be OK. She was going to be OK.

"Now even you must know what type of plane this is," Harry told her, steering her towards the concord. "At least, I hope you do. You don't even need to be the best friend of an airhead to know what this is."

"Hmm…" Nikki pretended to think. "Spitfire?"

Harry swatted her with the air show programme, sighing. "What are we going to do with you, Dr Alexander? How can you not even be able to tell a concord from a spitfire?"

"Oh, it's a concord!" Nikki exclaimed, still playing along with him. "I knew it had a 2 syllable name!"

"Oh you did? Well, it doesn't take a genius to guess that right!" Harry laughed. "Oh come on, you must have flown on a concord before!"

"As far as I'm concerned, an airplane is just a vehicle which takes a person from A to B! I don't stop to check what type of plane it is I'm flying on when I go to an airport!"

"You don't?" Harry asked her, pretending to be shocked. "Why on earth not?"

"Because I have better things to be spending my valuable time on than airplanes!" Nikki teased him.

"You…" Harry spluttered. "But… but airplanes are the most exciting things in the whole world!"

"If you're an airhead."

"Stop calling me an airhead. That's the 4th time in the last 10 minutes you've called me that!"

"You love it really."

"Sure I do," Harry said sarcastically. "Now come on, shall we go and have some lunch?"

"Thank you," Nikki told Harry later, sat outside at a picnic table on the grass as they had their lunch. It was peaceful outside, reminding him even more of just how frantic and out of control Nikki had been over the past few days, and how calm and relaxed she seemed now in comparison. It was if the storm had calmed, the black cloud previously hanging over her disappeared into nothingness and her whole mood lifted along with it. Harry was grateful now that he had forced her to talk about what was bothering her the previous night rather than just sending her back to the psychologist. He had contemplated it, but decided in the end that Nikki would be much happier talking to him than to Dr Banks again, and now he realized that could only have been the right decision.

"For what, the sandwich? Don't thank me for that, they had them on buy one get one free!"

She rolled her eyes. "You're such a man!"

"I should think so too!"

Another roll of the eyes. "Harry I'm not talking about the sandwich, for goodness sake, I'm talking about this. Thank you for today, and for last night. I don't…" her voice trailed off, and she looked down at the table for a moment before continuing. "I don't think I could have got through last night without you. So thank you."

"You're welcome," he told her sincerely, reaching to hold her hand. "I'm glad you're feeling better. And anyway, I should be thanking you, for indulging in me and my airplane obsession for the day."

She laughed now. "Oh, so you admit you have an obsession?"

"Well yes, but only a little one! Only a tiny, tiny obsession!" But she had turned away from him, stretching her arm out down by the grass, before sitting up again and holding out her arm across the table.

"Now this, Harry," she told him, the spark suddenly back in her eyes as she gestured to the small, pale blue creature perched delicately on her forearm, is a holly blue butterfly, a male; we can tell that because he's got a thin black border to his wings, whereas females have a thick brown border. They're quite rare…" She stopped, seeing the look of amusement on Harry's face.

"What?"

Harry just laughed. "How is it that you've managed to turn a day out at an Air Show into a butterfly lecture? There is history right around you Nikki, the history of one of mankind's greatest achievements, and you're getting excited about an insect?"

"It's not an insect! Well, it is, but it's a beautiful insect! And it's not a killing machine made out of metal, it's a harmless, beautiful living creature!"

Harry didn't bother to argue with her. He was too pleased that she seemed to have regained some appreciation of life, to thankful that she seemed more like Nikki again. After all, he thought to himself, as he tried frantically to commit the holly blue butterfly (or was it silver blue?) to his memory, how could anybody possibly argue with that? Sometimes, he mused, things had to go from bad to worse before they get better. And Nikki's mental state had certainly gone from bad to worse over the past few days, but now they seemed to be passing through into the 'better' stage. And finally, it looked as if everything was going to be alright.


End file.
